Lord, spare us the Oasis reunion
All photos by myself. All actions depicted carried out by myself.
Divine intervention might be the only hope to make next summer bearable for those of us who see Oasis for the phoneys they are.
The most arrogant stain on British music have decided they’re back again. Few things in art abhor me more than living in the past. So, it really doesn’t get worse than a band who spent much of the last 30 years racketing on about how great they were at imitating the stuff that came 30 years their prior. The unending sense of entitled, vitriolic arrogance that so much of Oasis’s material runs on, both as a band and in their solo projects, makes for my money one of the most reprehensible discographies around. Summer 2025 is set to be assaulted by its unwarranted nostalgia.
A million other acts from this era could do a comeback tour, for which I’d probably pay appalling amounts of money to go to. But most of them won’t, and I’m not losing sleep over it. Crucially, the ones who have done – including fellow Britpoppers Blur, Pulp and Suede – have grown beyond the confines of their 90s haydays. Their new material has proven that they still actually have something worthwhile left to say.
The Gallaghers, meanwhile, remain stuck in some mysticised version of nineteen-ninety-whatever. For the stage visuals at his solo shows, Liam uses a montage of footage of his younger self performing with Oasis. Never mind how that looks as he knocks out such enticing cuts from his newer albums like ‘Everything’s Electric’ and ‘Just A Rainbow’. Meanwhile, every single talking heads feature Noel does hangs on a precarious fear that he might go off on yet another remark about how much of a fucking legend he is.
“Practically no other artists of their fame bring with them such an insular narrative, utterly disconnected from the path of contemporary music…”
Engaging with their body of work is a numbing experience, unique in the realms of pop and rock today. Practically no other artists of their fame bring with them such an insular narrative, utterly disconnected from the path of contemporary music, save for the snipes they’ve made at other acts. Noel’s comments about Jay-Z headlining Glastonbury in 2008 remains one of the most sorry and insulting moments in our country’s cultural history.
What exactly has finally prompted them to reconvene? Maybe it’s the anniversaries, or perhaps they’ve realised their solo projects are dog shit. Money is the obvious reason, of course, but are they actually bankrupt? Financially, I find that unlikely.
Artistically, however, they have been since day one. It’s no wonder that the promotional video for the tour is conspicuous in only using songs from their first two albums. They were on borrowed time as it was, seemingly fearful of going near the engaging rawness that underlaid Definitely Maybe ever again. Instead, they doubled down on cheap, sexless, contrived, dishwater-coloured songwriting, rightfully criticised for sounding like a Beatles-meets-Kinks knock off. Convenience is the prevailing theme across their discography, and fuck me, some of the production was dreadful.
What of any merit came after What’s The Story anyway? Concerningly, the god-awful ‘Little By Little’ has seen most of its airtime come from High Flying Birds gigs, which makes it a strong candidate to be on the setlist next summer. But worse than that, I fear we’re going to end up in discourse that will try to reevaluate their later albums. They’re devoid of anything worthwhile. Trust me, I’ve tried.
“You could even argue that their style has more of an appeal to record labels now than it did back then: safe, predictable, forging appeal through familiarity rather than innovation.”
What’s curious then for the band who so desperately want to be the voice of ‘authentic’ and ‘true’ music is that they should resurface during a high period for nostalgia bait. The very industry that they’ve always claimed to be aside of – with the people, but never as rebels, remember – has fashioned the ideal setting for them to make their return. You could even argue that their style has more of an appeal to record labels now than it did back then: safe, predictable, forging appeal through familiarity rather than innovation. It’s awfully similar to the same strategies a lot of big-budget media is created with today.
But as to whether they’re ready to be something again in the world of the 2020s remains to be seen. The spitefulness they have always run with extends to their announcement post: “It won’t be televised”. That’s all well and good, but today, the biggest live shows are televised, whether it be through Coachella and Glastonbury being made available by national broadcasters, or through artists releasing concert films in cinemas. Not just for the sake of capital or promotion, either, but because today’s most popular artists recognise the artistic value of video formats. I have no intention of watching The Eras Tour Film, but the expansion it offers Swift with regards to visuals and editing? I find that very exciting.
One wonders how the brothers will feel about the subsequent TikTok and Instagram ads that will be made to promote their reunion. Will they make some snide comment about fans videoing their gigs? Their endless disdain for contemporary artists and mediums is exhausting. The world has long since moved on from the kind of drudgery they represent, whilst the fawning for nostalgia that they embody has now become a marketing strategy utilised in countless campaigns and endless Zoom calls every week.
“Their huge gigs at Knebworth in 1996 aren’t remembered for particular versions of their songs that they played, but rather are recounted in the number of people who applied to buy tickets.”
What they represented, however, I really struggle with. It’s always the rut of any argument I’ve got into over them. Dress it up however you like, Oasis were always spectacle over substance. Their huge gigs at Knebworth in 1996 aren’t remembered for particular versions of their songs that they played, but rather are recounted in the number of people who applied to buy tickets.
Indeed, Oasis’s chronology is signposted by fights, spats, legal issues and controversial interviews. In their output, there’s no equivalent moment to Prince’s 19 minute version of ‘Purple Rain’ from his tour of the same name. There’s no equivalent of Beyoncé’s Coachella Homecoming-themed headliner – nor her bringing out a certain Shawn Carter to sing ‘Deja Vu’ with. There’s no Paramore dealing with the power going out at their 2014 Reading set by performing an acoustic version of ‘The Only Exception’.
Why drag that lot into vague comparisons? Because we’re already being inundated with opinion pieces, pub chats and comment sections that will claim Oasis are somehow a ‘realer’ form of music, something more genuine and more worthy than artists who dared to be more than a 5 piece guitar group. People did and do feel something for them, no doubt. Anyone I’ve ever asked, however, has struggled to answer that without shoving other music under the bus.
The jokes about the brothers ending things all over again 3 shows in with an on-stage scuffle do have merit. But they distract from the fact that enormous hullabaloo is about to be made over a band who are phoneys at best. No disrespect to anyone who finds something in them, of course, not that this article is an especially kind read. But I would like to remind you that there is a hell of a lot of other music out there.
In lusting so hard for the imagined past, creating something for the present becomes impossible. Oasis don’t have a place in the world of today because their attitude prevents them from forging any link with it. Should they want to headline their beloved Glastonbury, Noel may have to rescind his comments about it “getting a bit woke now”. What a surprise that his musical conservatism extends to his personal views. Liam too might consider winding his neck in the next time he decides to get a bit homophobic.
Whilst writing this, I’ve had Jay-Z’s back catalogue on. It’s important to remember what should and shouldn’t be left in history.
Check out Sourhouse’s favourite tunes right now on the Sourhouse MUSICBOX playlist.
Updated with new additions all the time.
